It's funny, what one thinks of while fighting for one's life.
Maybe it was a survival instinct or that she had been hanging out with Red too long and had become flippant while staring down the face of evil. But it didn't seem normal that there were only two prominent thoughts racing through her head at this exact moment.
One being, that with her attacker's modus operandi, her life as it was, and the occasional flashes of lightning highlighting his murderous face... all had the makings of a horror film, minus the musical score.
And the second being, that in less time than it had taken for all her new things to be delivered after her fight with Tom, she was already on the brink of having to order more furniture and other sundry.
Which was a very optimistic attitude, given her current situation.
The house was tossed, her throwing everything in her wake, trying to slow him so she could get to her gun.
She felt the thin blade her attacker held, slice through her skin once again. The sudden split of her flesh feeling warm, then stinging hotly, as cool air met the fresh flowing blood seeping from the widening wound, all which was slowing her progress.
At some point in the melee, she had not only bloodied her face bad enough that she had to keep wiping the ooze from her eyes, but she had sliced a foot deeply enough that she could retain no traction on the slick floor, which hindered her retreat further.
Stumbling to her gun box, she felt a hand grip her ankle, yanking her off her feet. Kicking with all she had, Liz fought for purchase, pulling with her upper body. Her fingertips grazed the edge of the wood, finally tumbling the box to the cluttered floor, spilling it's life saving contents.
She grasped the black metal, attempting to flip, but she was stilled by a steel-like grip on her arm and wrist.
Pushing harder at the weight on her back with all she had, did little to dislodge the heavy burden which held her flat to the floor. Beefy hands suddenly became painfully tight, as the man shifted, coming heavily down on her right forearm.
The resounding snap of the bone was almost drowned out by her pained scream. The adrenaline coursing through her terrified body gave an extra push, allowing her to flip, the pain a lesser of two evils.
And at this moment, Elizabeth Keen was an expert where evil was concerned.
She kicked towards his groin, missing by mere inches. Her ankle was caught easily, grabbed harshly then yanked viscously, popping it from it's proper place.
The combination of the arm and ankle were too much for her body and mind to process.
Liz turned her head, throwing up the evening's meal and drink.
His engaging laughter sounding over her sickness made her stomach rebel again. This man was enjoying every second of this sick game he played.
He stood over her for what seemed an eternity as the woman attempted to regroup which only seemed to amuse the sociopath more.
He reached, deliberately tugging sharply on her injured leg, ignoring her cries of agony before dragging her carelessly towards the kitchen. Liz wondered, having read the guy's file, if he was going to retrieve his kit.
She knew all about the contents of that kit and their purpose.
With a last ditch effort to escape, she turned to her stomach, grasping uselessly at the floor, her finger nails scraping the thin cracks, breaking as she was pulled along.
"Help!" An ear piercing scream passed through her parched, dried lips.
The man halted his movements abruptly, a latex glove covered hand going to her face silenced her effectively for a brief moment.
She bit the hand as hard as humanly possible. "You son of a bitch!" she spat her fury and frustration.
Struggling with all the strength she had left, she kicked the little table on her right, sending it crashing down the hall.
No one could hear her struggles. No one knew she needed help.
Red wouldn't be here for another two hours, and when he did come back, he'd find her... dead. The very thing he had been worried about happening was going to happen.
She was going to die.
God, if I ever needed help, now would be the time.
With all that she had in her, she let out a loud terrified scream.